Twisted Lies (Dirty Secrets)

  TWISTED LIES

  SEDONA VENEZ

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  OTHER WORK BY SEDONA VENEZ

  The Credence Curse Series

  Breaking the Storm

  When Lightning Strikes

  The Valkyries: Soaring Raven Series

  Infinity

  Infinity Unleashed

  COMING LATE 2015

  Reason to Love (Book 3, Credence Curse)

  Twisted Lies 2 (Book 2, Dirty Secrets)

  Infinity Reloaded (Book 3, Valkyries: Soaring Raven)

  Visit www.sedonavenez.com

  TWISTED LIES

  A Dirty Secrets Novel

  SEDONA VENEZ

  www.sedonavenez.com

  One Wish Publishing

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by T.L. Clarke

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

  One Wish Publishing

  Edited by Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreading: Jenny, Editing for Indies

  Proofreading: Cassie, Gathering Leaves Editing

  Excerpt from Breaking the Storm copyright © 2014 by T.L. Clarke

  Excerpt from When Lightning Strikes copyright © 2014 by T.L. Clarke

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author: tlclarkewrites@gmail.com

  First Edition: September 2014

  ISBN: 978-0-9915898-2-1

  TWISTED LIES

  “It has been said, ‘Time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

  —ROSE KENNEDY

  PROLOGUE

  Manhattan. Present Day. W.C. (With Core)

  How the hell did this shit happen?

  I fucking hate him, but I want him.

  It was sick and sordid, and I couldn’t tell what this really was. I only knew when I was around him, he suffocated me with his twisted lies and dirty secrets, only to cruelly resuscitate me—and shamefully, I loved it.

  Core stepped forward, caging me alongside his desk, making sure my body was flush against his. “Ready to fuck, Sin?” he whispered in my ear.

  I sucked in a breath as his hard bulge pressed into my stomach. Mesmerized, I watched his hand reach out. His callous fingers slid down my cheek before his thick thumb dragged across my bottom lip and penetrated the barrier of my pouty wet lips. My body jerked from the sensual intrusion.

  Honestly, I wasn’t really sure how to process the touch of a man again. It’d been so long that I forgot just how good it felt to have a strong hand touching me.

  He scowled. “Sin, don’t move,” he demanded huskily while grabbing the back of my head with his other hand. “Show me how much you want this, how much you want me. Lick it like you want it, darling.”

  I should stop him before this goes any further.

  I knew I should, but my body thought otherwise. I was high off his lies and drunk off his hate. Now there was no way out. On cue, my tongue ran along the length of his thumb as if it were his shaft. When he growled with pleasure, a tremor pulsed through my body as my cunt contracted.

  Jesus, I’m so fucked.

  Our mouths were a breath away. The desire and tension were almost more than I could take. Abruptly, he removed his thumb, cupping the back of my neck, pulling hard on my hair, before his lips settled across my mouth. My breath caught, my mind undecided as to whether I should pull back or allow him to delve farther.

  Who am I kidding?

  There was no allowing. I was Core’s possession, and the cocky bastard knew it.

  Sensually, I moaned as his tongue curled around mine, demanding it come out and play. He awakened a need that lay dormant in the pit of my stomach, a need that only he could satisfy.

  His hand skated down and squeezed my hip while his eyes were fixed on mine. “I want you. Now!” he growled.

  My pulse raced, and my body trembled with want. He was crumbling my resolve. Diabolically, he stripped me emotionally bare, leaving me vulnerable and raw to the bone. He was revealing a piece of me that would be better left hidden. The message was clear. He knew what I needed, and he would give it to me if I took the leap of faith.

  He smiled like the devil reincarnated as he released me and sat on the leather chair with his legs splayed open. My stomach rolled with anxiousness as I leaped into the pits of scorching hell by pushing up the hem of my dress before straddling his legs. I shook my hair slowly as I rotated my hips. He grabbed my ass hard, stilling my movement.

  I trailed my fingers over his chest. “Then take me, McKay, until there’s nothing left.” I leaned in toward him and bit his lower lip.

  He gave me a bad-boy smile, causing my stomach to flip-flop like I was on a roller coaster.

  “Sinful.” He licked my bottom lip slowly. He pulled back with his eyes locked onto me with a power that left me breathless. “Are you mine?” he asked gruffly.

  My heart raced with sickening excitement. I knew he was evil, lust, and darkness personified. He should have terrified me, but he didn’t because I was just as fucked-up in the head as he was.

  “Always,” I whispered.

  “I’m never letting you go, Sin.” Tilting my head back, he kissed me hard. “What I claim, I keep.”

  I was a spider trapped in his web.

  “Now get on your knees,” he ordered in a brusque tone.

  This was it—the moment of truth that would seal my destiny. Self-preservation finally kicked in.

  My mind screamed like a banshee, Run, Sin! Tuck your ass and run!

  My body tightened, preparing to run away as if a horde of paparazzi were nipping at my stilettos.

  Core’s cold grey eyes narrowed. “I’m a hardhearted, ruthless motherfucker who doesn’t know shit about love or relationships.” He pulled me forward, one hand taking a firm hold of my wrists, while his legs forced my knees apart. “And neither do you.” His free hand ripped off my panties. “Perfection is complete fantasyland bullshit.”

  His hand slid against my pussy, and two fingers pushed inside, stretching me open. I moaned as I clenched those fingers tightly.

  “See, darling?” He smiled knowingly. “That’s our reality. It’s raw, wicked, and wild—a connection on a level that very few will ever have or could even dream of.”

  I didn’t have it all figured out. What I did know was Core was no Prince Charming and I, for damn sure, wasn’t a princess. There would be no fairy-tale ending for us. It would be hard work, and more importantly, it would be real. Life couldn’t b
e all about tiaras and princes riding in to save the day.

  Damn it! I would rewrite my fucking story and leap into the black abyss on faith alone because I wasn’t looking for forever.

  I licked his lips, unzipped his pants, and wrapped my hands around his hard cock before squeezing hard. He hissed as he relaxed against the soft leather chair, watching with intensity as I slid to my knees.

  This was my give. This was his take.

  And there was no going back.

  ’Til death do us part…

  CHAPTER

  1

  Manhattan. Past. B.C. (Before Core)

  I blinked back happy tears. I, the girl from the other side of the tracks, had been accepted into my dream school. Naysayers, like Kyle Fillion, could kiss my ass.

  Even after all this time, I couldn’t believe his hateful words still hurt like a motherfucker. The truth of the matter was I wasn’t sure what I was more ashamed of—that I had been so weak then or that he’d proven it when I allowed him to trample my heart and pride. I brutally pushed down the emotional pain.

  Fuck Kyle and fuck love!

  Horns honked loudly, mercifully jolting my thoughts back from an impending descent into depression. I sucked in a lungful of stale, humid air as the cab driver cursed and hit his own horn. He mumbled under his breath while tapping the steering wheel as we sat in heavy Manhattan traffic.

  Damn, I should have just taken the subway.

  I bit my bottom lip, staring at the bumper-to-bumper gridlock. I was going to be late for work, again, and Grace was going to lose her shit. I pushed a few blond wisps of hair off my face, then touched my neck.

  “Great,” I muttered.

  The ringing of my cell snapped me from an almost frantic tirade.

  “What’s up, Jade?” I smiled goofily.

  Only Jade could bring me back from the brink of panic.

  “What’s up?” She paused dramatically. “My girl, Sinthia Michaels, has arrived! That’s what’s up. I’m so happy for you, Sin! I knew you would get in!” Jade screamed.

  Knowing her, she was probably doing her happy dance in the middle of Manhattan. It was so cute how happy and excited she was for me.

  “Well, I wasn’t as sure. Getting into fashion school was a long, frenzied, competitive process,” I responded.

  Jade laughed. “Please. You worry too damn much. You’re a super-talented clothing designer. One day, your hot collection will be parading down the runway during fashion week. And I’ll be holding court in the front row, salivating over all the clothes I get to snap up first.”

  I chuckled. “Well, thank you for being my living mannequin.”

  I designed most of my clothes using her as my sounding board. She was patient, enthusiastic, and always there for me. She was everything a best friend should be.

  What other high school girl would allow a budding designer to create her prom dress? Only Jade would take such a risk, and it had paid off. The dress had been all everyone could talk about at prom. The excitement over my design had given me the extra boost of confidence to pursue my dream.

  I wanted to design clothes for a living. According to Grace, it would be a complete waste of fucking time. Just thinking about her constant verbal barbs filled me with anger, pain, and fucking resentment. Her emotional abuse would have broken me by now if it weren’t for my dad’s love and nurturing.

  Damn it! I miss him so much.

  I blinked back the tears. It had been nearly a year, and I still couldn’t think about him without breaking down into a sobbing fit. Just trying to cope with his death had been rough on me. He had been my rock. Dealing with the psychological bullying from Grace had made coping with his untimely death and the trials of living without his protection nearly impossible.

  But I was taking it one day at a time, and thanks to Jade’s moral support, I was surviving. Jade had been my best friend and my biggest fan since high school. We complemented each other despite the fact that Jade and I were just so…different.

  Jade was the daughter of Ariana Bellisario—a philanthropist, heiress, and successful businesswoman—making Jade a member of the illustrious group of New York socialites whose monthly allowance was more than what most people would make in a year.

  I, on the other hand, grew up in a middle-class family. They had been happy as shit when I received a scholarship to attend the ultra-elite private high school whose attendees included the children of celebrities and foreign dignitaries.

  Our differences didn’t end there. Jade was beautiful and lithe, with shocking apple-green eyes. My features were more exotic—or what guys would call sensual. I could live with that description, but it was my tight, curvy body that caused me angst—well, that and the fact that I had more ass and breasts than should be allowed on any woman unless her lifelong ambition was to be a very well-paid stripper.

  Jade was my bestie and my partner in crime. When she needed me, I would be there just like she’d be for me. It’d been that way from the first day we met as freshmen in high school, and it would always be that way.

  Jade jarred me out of my thoughts by screaming at the top of her lungs, “Sin! Are you fucking listening?”

  I clutched my pearls. “Shit! Do you have to be so damn loud?” I snapped.

  The cab driver scowled at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Okay. Grumpy much?” Jade responded dryly.

  I sighed. She was right. I should have been bouncing up and down with excitement. It was a huge life goal of mine to attend one of the best fashion schools in the country. I’d worked so hard for this day, and it was finally here.

  “Now, how in the hell are you going to break the good news to Grace?” Jade asked.

  And there it was, the motherfucking killjoy—my mom. My fingers twitched. Anxiously, I straightened my crisp oxford shirt and then smoothed down my black skirt as if I were somehow being scrutinized by her unforgiving glare.

  “I don’t know.” I bit my bottom lip. “I’m on my way there now. Any suggestions?”

  I felt sick to my stomach just from thinking about the inevitable confrontation. Our relationship had never been good. Grace wasn’t…well, motherly. Okay, the woman was plain narcissistic. She always had been, and she always would be.

  “Number one—don’t let her mindfuck you, Sin. Stay true to your plan. You’re going to school.” Jade’s voice hardened. “You’ve worked too damn hard to let her dash away your dream.”

  It hurt like hell to admit it, but I’d never gotten the sense that Grace loved me, and I damn sure could never do anything right in her eyes, no matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I’d tried. It was fucking embarrassing how hard I’d worked to be everything she expected me to be—flawless. I’d even dyed my long, naturally auburn hair blond like hers, which looked utterly ridiculous with my exotic, dark features. What was worse was the sheer disdain in her eyes when she’d seen it. In comparison to her ethereal, porcelain features, I wasn’t pretty enough or thin enough or smart enough. I just wasn’t enough…and frankly, the truth hurt like a motherfucker.

  I sat stiffly, clenching my fingers around my leather handbag. “You’re right. I have to be firm with her. I want to go to school. I just haven’t quite figured out how in the hell I’m going to pay the tuition.”

  “Sin, just tell her you earned her help with paying the tuition. You’ve been busting your ass while assisting her in that overpriced teahouse for months. For fuck’s sake, she claimed she couldn’t afford to pay you, but then she went out and bought a luxury vehicle with cash.” Jade scoffed. “God, that woman is worse than my piece-of-shit father.”

  My lips pursed from just thinking about how Grace had burned through the money from my dad’s wrongful death settlement on extravagant purchases. Including a new condo with a homeowner’s association fee that was more than what most people paid for their monthly mortgage. To make matters worse, she was living way above the income generated from her new teahouse business.

  I ran my fingers through
my hair. “Thank you for giving me the swift kick in the ass I needed. You’re right. I must take care of me. God knows, if I don’t, she damn sure won’t.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Jade responded.

  I sighed. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay. Remember, I have an audition today, but I’ll be home right after. I have a feeling this is going to get real ugly, so give me a call, or even better, stop by.”

  “Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot your big audition is today. Get off the phone. You need to get your mind right. No more talking about my dysfunctional family.” I sighed heavily. “Thank you, Jade. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Jade laughed huskily. “Shit, you were there for me when I went through my hot-mess phase, and now it’s my turn to be there for you. Just call me, no matter what, okay?”

  “Okay. Concentrate on getting that part.” I hung up, pulling a compact out of my handbag, checking myself in the mirror.

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder, touched up my mascara and lip-gloss, and then fiddled nervously with my pearl necklace and earrings. They were gifts from Grace for my eighteenth birthday in lieu of the new sewing machine I’d asked for.

  My body jerked from the sharp stop in front of Grace’s teahouse. After paying the cab fare, I hopped out. My hands trembled while running them along my tight pencil skirt, trying to get out the nonexistent wrinkles. I froze, realizing I was on my way to what Jade called my level ten panic attack. Blowing out slowly, I counted to ten before making sure to cover my one act of rebellion—the tattoo that read Sin in cursive letters on my wrist. If Grace were to see the tattoo, she would clutch her damn pearls, screaming that proper young ladies—more importantly, her daughter—didn’t get tattoos.